Lips, is that all that love is? The kissing of lips, the wanting, not the laughing, not the feelings and the true love?
If that's true, then I hate love, more then I hate the man that has me trapped within his strong hands.
I can feel his want, the want for power, and the want for me over powering him.
Claude and Peter are miles and miles away, but I can still feel there anger strong within me, and the tears of a broken mother who finds her son isn't what she though he was.
"You're going to squeeze my hand off, Sylar."
I pulled my hand away, it hurts and I felt sick from his touch. A wicked smile coated my lips, the smile of a broken girl that only wanted to see the bad guy suffer, and pay for his many sins.
He was shocked, eyes big and large, seeing what he did to me, seeing that he made me hate. Made my soul tarnished with hate and revenge, he brought me back into reality with a push.
"You make me sick, horrible man, do you think you can come and I would still love you? You don't deceive to be called Gabriel, he died along time ago."
I screamed the words of hate at him with my voice strong and clear, everything finally busting out of me like a busted pipe.
"Rosie?"
I caught my breath, a small sad smile coming out, and the tears finally coming.
"Rosie is dead, too."
I let the blue shimming thing coat my whole body, keeping out the darkness and evil. My eyes and ears were closed to the evil, see no evil, hear no evil, do no evil.
"I'm sorry."
His whispers were lies, lies that come from a snake who wants the mouse to come into its mouth.
I hear him, voice strong, cursing and doing what he promised, beating in his head with one hit.
"He got away, wanker."
I let the defense down, following to ground, broken and hollow, ready to be home, safe in bed.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm weak."
His hands were warm and soft, not Claude's, but Peter's, someone new that brushed his lips with mine, addicted to something weak and impure.
"Don't be sorry, you're anything but weak."